Proposition
by peroxidepest17
Summary: Sometime-in-the-undetermined-future-fic: Rukia and Ichigo and a conversation on their lives together.


**Title:** Proposition  
**Author:** Celeste  
**Feedback:** (yes!)  
**Universe:** Bleach  
**Pairing:** IchigoxRukia  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word Count:** 1,925  
**Time:** 1:23  
**Spoilers:** Not really.  
**Summary:** Sometime-in-the-undetermined-future-fic: Rukia and Ichigo and a conversation on their lives together.  
**Dedication:** JaB, because I needed to give her something more for her b-day.  
**A/N:** Oh WAFFY land, here I am. I think it's all those ZoSan fluff fics I've been churning out, but here it is again, pointless romantic schmoopy-ness, IchigoxRukia style. Forgive me, forgive me! The OOCness is deeply apologized for as I love these characters and hate bastardizing them as I do. -;;  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Otherwise I wouldn't have such a hard time trying to get the merchandise, dammit!  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

"Hey…we should get married, or something."

Rukia blinked, turned to look down into the face of the person addressing her.

Stretched out on the grass with his head pillowed on top of his arms, Ichigo's characteristic scowl stared back at her evenly.

She snorted. "Why?"

He tore his eyes away, turned them to the side, before snorting right back at her. "Just seems like the thing to do I guess," he admitted, shrugging one shoulder carelessly. "Pops is kind of pushing for it."

Interest piqued, she pulled her knees up against her chest and rested her chin atop them. "Oh?"

His brow furrowed. "Damn pervert keeps saying you're free game until we actually get hitched, or something sick like that."

She laughed a little. Then stopped.

"Was that why you got…"

"Che, _finally_ got it huh, stupid?"

She frowned and nudged him with her foot in a poor-imitation kick. "I thought his hand slipped."

Ichigo made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. "He's too damn old to still be that perverted, the sick weirdo."

She eyed him slyly. "I wonder one day if you'll…"

"I will _never_ be like that idiot!" Ichigo protested before she could even finish the thought, knowing exactly where she was going when he saw her smile.

She eyed him again, more speculatively this time. "Mmm, you're much too crude to be that subtle."

"You're such a bitch sometimes," he muttered, closing his eyes. "Whatever. Pretend I didn't say anything."

If she hadn't gotten to know him so well during the course of their strange and dangerous past seven years together, she would have thought him mad at her. As it was, he was simply being his normal, irritable self, and she saw no need to take offense at his gruffness.

"Hey, Ichigo…" she nudged him with her foot again.

"What?"

"Was your father the only reason you asked?"

The ghost of a flush flittered over his cheeks before he turned on his side, his back facing her. "If it's not something you wanna do, then forget about it, kay?" he stated plainly. "I'm gonna take a nap."

She frowned, regarding his lean backside. She nudged him with her foot again. "Hey…I'm not done talking to you."

"Stop being annoying," he protested.

"Stop being such a child," she rejoined instinctively.

He grunted at that, but said nothing else.

She sighed and gave him a more solid kick, extending her leg this time. "Do you really want to marry me?"

"Not if you keep _kicking_ me," he complained, rolling onto his back again and looking up at her with a highly irritated air.

"If I stopped?"

He looked skeptical.

This time, she smacked him.

"You said _kicking_," she told him flatly on his responding look. "Now answer me for real."

Frustrated, he sat up, towering over her though she was less than impressed with his stature knowing that in the long run, he'd never dare fight back against her.

Plus, she knew exactly where he was deathly ticklish, which gave her another distinct advantage.

"Well?" she prompted, crossing her arms and focusing all of her attention on him.

He sighed. "I hate it when you do that."

"Do what?"

"This! This isn't the kind of thing you're supposed to talk about like this, jeez! I ask a question and the answer is either yes or no, ya know? That makes it easier."

She wanted to feel put out. "So if I'd said no that would have been that?"

"Well, yeah. I guess." He scratched at his head and frowned at her. "If you didn't want to, that'd be the end of it, right?"

He'd never made her do anything she didn't want to do; mostly because he knew her and the fact that she couldn't really be forced to do something she didn't want to, even by him.

He may have had powers that could destroy gods, but no matter how bad-ass he got, she always seemed to have his number before he could even contemplate getting her to accede to something she was vehemently against.

Most of the time, if she was against it, he'd just do it himself. She'd rail at him later with her disapprovals, but in the end he wasn't able to ever _force_ her into anything.

The truth was, he didn't really want to anyway.

"I didn't say no," she reminded him after a second.

"I _know_," he griped, tossing an arm over his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at her and get annoyed by her stupid expression.

She hadn't said yes either, after all.

She voiced his very thoughts. "I didn't say yes either."

"I _know_," he grit out again.

"What I wanted to know was, was your father the only reason you brought this up in the first place?"

He snorted. "Of course not, stupid. Like I care what that perverted old-fart goes on about! I just asked cuz I'd been thinking about it, is all," he stated bluntly.

"Then why'd you say it was because of what your father said?"

He groaned, wanting something to bang his head against. "This kind of thing isn't exactly easy, ya know? I sort of panicked when you asked me why, okay?" He moved his arm so he could regard her with one eye. "You make everything so damn complicated sometimes."

She bit back the urge to roll her eyes. "Did you even think about the possible consequences that would occur if you and I were to…"

"Che. No."

"Typical."

"I was takin' it one step at a time!" he shot back in his defense. "Besides, it wouldn't be that different than how things are now."

She smirked. "So you _did_ think about it. At least a little bit."

Sometimes she made him want to pull out his hair.

Instead, he ripped up a handful of grass. "Look," he muttered, "you didn't say yes or no either way, so let's just drop it, alright?"

"I don't want to."

"Oh _great_."

She poked him in the shoulder, chin still resting on her knees. "If it wouldn't be any different than how it is now, why do it?"

"Well maybe I wanted to, is that okay?"

"Why didn't you just say so then?"

He made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a muffled snarl. More grass was ripped from the lawn.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" She leaned forward to try and hear him better.

"I said, I hate you," he grit out.

"That's not a very good premise for a marriage," she speculated, concealing the glint in her eye from his line of vision.

"Che. Then let's forget about this whole conversation, okay?"

She frowned outright. "I thought you were more stubborn than that. Shouldn't you be listing the reasons of why I'm wonderful and make me lots of promises of happiness and gifts and food?"

He snorted. "You've been reading Inoue's manga again, haven't you?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "As silly as some of them are, at least the males do better in their declarations of eternal devotion."

"Who said anything about eternal devotion!"

She laughed at him and patted his shoulder in a placating way. "You still need a lot of work," she told him plainly.

He sighed and shrugged off her hand. "Yeah, yeah."

They sat in silence for a while, Rukia smiling thoughtfully to herself and Ichigo watching her from under the arm draped across his eyes.

"Oi, Rukia…" he urged after a few minutes.

"Hmmm?"

"Do you really want something like that?"

"Like what?"

He scowled at her obtuseness, but moved his arm off of his face and sat up to look at her properly. "All those declarations and promises and stupid shit? Er, I mean, lovey-dovey shi…uh, stuff?"

She put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing at the confounded expression in his eyes.

He saw it anyway.

"Damn you."

Caught, she removed her hand and allowed herself a good chuckle. "Of course I don't really want that. Especially from _you_. That would just be strange. You're too tactless to be effective in that sort of interaction."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She only smiled back at him.

He might've been angry, but she was laughing, and looked rather pleased with herself, so he grudgingly settled for a mild irritation instead. "I could do it, if I had to," he stated challengingly.

"No you couldn't."

"Well, I could _try_." He paused, looked at her again with a quizzical expression that made an indiscernible sort of warm sickness roll in her gut. "Do you want me to?"

She put a hand against her stomach.

He noticed the gesture. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, forgetting the previous inquiry in light of his immediate concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him, hastily removing her hand.

"Sure?"

"Aa."

He relaxed, but kept a vigilant eye on her regardless.

She couldn't help but smile a little at that and reached out to pat his head in the way he always raised hell about, though she suspected in reality, he didn't really care so long as she was the only one that did it.

Too many people and it might ruin his carefully quaffed image, or something.

The corners of her eyes lifted at the thought, and she let her hand linger longer than usual in his hair. "I don't want you to do anything that isn't you," she told him honestly after a moment.

He ducked away from her hand. "Well, okay then. Just so we're clear on that."

"Do you really want to get married?"

He snorted, looked away again. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't, stupid."

"I'm just making sure," she sniffed.

"Good to know," he drawled, still not looking at her.

"We're from two different worlds," she reminded him, ever-practical.

"That we travel freely back and forth from," he rejoined easily, giving her undeniable proof that he had indeed thought of this to a farther extent than he was willing to admit.

"You still have school."

"I graduate in spring."

She blinked at him. "You actually go to class?"

He allowed himself a rakish, self-satisfied smirk. "No one goes to college classes in Japan."

She snorted. "That's a comfort, thank you. What about your family?"

"For some freak reason, they all love you."

"What about you?"

He choked on his own air. "What about me!" he coughed, face burning. "Where the hell did that come from?"

His reaction told her everything she needed to know. And so she said, very logically, "All right. I accept your proposal."

It took a moment for the words to register. "You do?" He stared at her, mouth open in disbelief.

"I wouldn't say so if I didn't," she parroted coolly.

He blinked a few times. Then, his permanent scowl seemed to soften slightly. And he appeared rather pleased with himself. "Uh…oh. Okay. Well…good then. Then it's settled," he acknowledged in as dignified a manner as he could.

"Aa, then it's settled," she agreed, eyes smiling as she promptly extended a hand towards him. He stared at it.

"Now what?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously as he reached out tentatively to take her small hand in his.

She coughed to clear her throat. "Kurosaki Ichigo, welcome to the Kuchiki family. I hope you will do great honor to the name."

And then she shook his hand.

He groaned and flopped onto his stomach, face down into the grass.

He _knew_ that had been too easy.

**END**


End file.
